Ultimate Victims
by EtherialPromises
Summary: The Hellsing organization faces a threat that has the potential to turn the world into a true land of the dead. Lives are lost, found, and destroyed. Tears and blood flow. There's no place left to hide... Rated M for intense violence in 2nd chap. onwards.
1. Chapter 1

Foreword: Hello all. I sadly do not have any association to the awesome creator of this manga/anime. I own nothing from the series and all characters are property of their creator. With that out of the way, let's have some vampire action!

* * *

Part I: King of No-Man's Land

He wasn't really sure what was going on. There was definitely something clawing at the inside of his skull, he knew that much. It wasn't so much pain as the dull feeling that there wasn't enough room in his head for both himself and whatever it was that was tearing around his grey matter like a little tornado. If this new, insistent sensation had not been enough to ruin his restless sleep, he was quietly fuming about the lack of fun he'd been having.

His gloved finger busily traced the patterns on the hand-canon's grip while his mind traced the different routes he could travel down to gain the most pleasure from actually getting to use the now dormant weapon. All he could conjure, though, were repeated images of a ghoul's head exploding then its rotted corpse hitting the floor. Even worse, however, were the drearily mundane, inexcusably lackluster battles he could have with some upstart who thought that he was up to doing battle with a Nosferatu such as himself. Oh yeah, he saw the end of those encounters well before they began. _"Yup, let me think. Yes I know how that goes, 'I'm the greatest vampire around! Oh wait, I can't transform, heal, or call upon the forces of the ether! I guess this is where I die." Then I play the part of the vampire hunter and rip the twerp's heart from his miserable chest." _The No-Life King let out a long, exasperated sigh. The monotony was almost worse than a stake at this point; plus, the new grating, tearing movement in his head was not making him feel any better.

"Enough of this," he said in a commanding tone as though he were reprimanding a squad of soldiers who were beginning to act out-of-line. He was not going to stand for this boredom. If he were not going to be assigned to something interesting, he would find something interesting. The interesting thing he was now pursuing would be that bumbling police girl. If he didn't startle her by dropping into her room from the ceiling, he could get a reaction out of her by reminding her of how inferior she was for lacking the spine to drink blood and claim her rightful heritage.

For a second, he wondered why he was forcing this on her. For just a moment, wondered if maybe she might have had something he lacked that kept her from teetering over the edge of immortality. Then again, he had taken something that no other could claim to have taken, to achieving. He faced death than bled it dry by his sheer will. He was forever, he was what men looked for when they looked into their microscopes or when they sat in their pews and temples praying to their gods to sustain them after their bodies could stand no more. He was immortal, he was powerful… he was now being called by his master in the back of his mind. And now, he was smiling.

* * *

Part II: Attack-Parry Complex

The sun light stung a little as he walked into the cathedral that was Sir Integra Fairbook Wingate Hellsing's office or control center. He noticed that her hand wavered momentarily over a button that was set into a panel that fit into her Mahogany desk before it finally depressed it. The huge window, which took up an entire wall, was occluded as automated drapes fell to cover it. The No Life King chuckled as he thought the drapes looked like they were closing over a great stage. It seemed appropriate, considering that just about every single wriggling maggot out there could be slaughtered and he just wouldn't care. Well, more like he wouldn't be fazed by the imitation of fake life succumbing to menial death. They were all going to die. So what if they just happened to die a little quicker.

"Alucard," Integra accosted with pretense.

"My Master," he enunciated as his hand swept the Fedora off his head and bowed in a courtly, though purposely elaborate fashion. He smiled to himself when he detected those vibrations from her body singing the angry fugue that indicated that when he looked up, he would see a scowl mutating her usually comely face. Finally, a bit of entertainment. "I most graciously thank you for being oh so considerate that you should see fit to shield your _humble _servant from the encroaching light." A smile expanded over his face that was a cocktail of irony, sarcasm, and dry humor. The fangs that dripped over his lips shone in a nether-worldly glow against the artificial twilight of the chamber.

As he looked up, he was not disappointed. Integra's face was twisted in a resentful sneer. Without taking her eyes off him, her index finger flicked the air and came swiftly down upon the button she had pressed a moment before with unswerving force. Alucard didn't try to hide the smile that crossed his face and revealed the length of his needle sharp fangs. As the sun began to pour through once again, Alucard began to register the familiar pin-pricks that crawled over him as the sun came though to deliver a smothering embrace. The discomfort only made him take more delight in down-playing its effects to his Master who was hoping to get just a twinge of discomfort out of him.

"Why thank you master. You know, I had been hoping to get out and get a little sun. Now you've saved me the trouble. If you liked me before, you won't be able to keep your hands off me once I get a tan." His words were filled with spite but not pain or discomfort. They were also distinctly without any type of malice towards the stone pillar of Integra's form.

The stone that was Integra was not immutable however and Alucard had managed to find just the right pressure point. Integra's face flashed red, though it wasn't the red of flattery or embarrassment from his last comment, but from rage at his insolence. Her fist hit the table with a thud that echoed warily from wall to wall. Alucard just couldn't stop smiling. _"Did I always enjoy taunting her this much or is just because I've been deprived of fun for so long?" _

"Alucard! I realize that you have been inactive for a long period of time but I will not excuse your crude, immature remarks! Furthermore, I will not tolerate your disregard for my authority! Next time you dare to address me like that, I don't care if the entire domain of Satan is spilling over, I will relegate you to your coffin and let Seras and Pip sweep up the mess in your place!" Her last word was fired with the accuracy of a silver bullet and, as the tension finally took its leave, Integra sat back in her chair. She put her elbows up on the monolithic desk and folded her hands before her face. The change was instantaneous as her face was scrubbed of all discernable emotion. Now, her calm drawn tight over her face like the curtain that was temporarily drawn over the sun, Integra spoke in a phlegmatic tone that was as pristine as garrote wire.

"Now, have you noticed anything odd happening lately?" Her eyebrows didn't rise with the question and the inflection was dead-pan. Things were now strictly to business. Games and quips would have to be saved for later, especially if Alucard hoped to finally have a little excitement.

"No Master." Alucard really couldn't say there was anything going on. Things were as quiet a mountain lake. Just like his beloved Lake Snargov. Suddenly a wave of nostalgia took his motionless heart and carried him into waters he had learned to never tread years ago. He recovered quickly, reminding himself that things were no different now than they ever had been; everything changed.

"As I said before, you have had a lot of down time recently. Does this not strike you as strange?"

Alucard confidently made sweeping strides up to Integra's desk. He didn't bother with the formalities since he knew that he would be reprimanded should he be out of line. He could depend on his master for that. It was what kept him coming back in fact. If she had not been so strong willed, he would have easily taken his leave long ago; instead, he had helped her command respect and in return he, gave his to her.

"Well, after whittling down all the freaks, the two-piece maggots parading as vampires, and their ghouls; isn't this a good sign? Isn't this what the Hellsing organization is for: to rid the world of these _filthy _vampires?" He bared his fangs through the grin that over took his face, letting them make the point for him, so to speak.

The remark didn't faze Integra, or if it did, she didn't let it guide her facial expression which remained nonplused. "While I'm sure you would like me to indulge your ego by telling you that you've done a crack-job, what we've received from reconnaissance doesn't point to you as the cause of the their dwindling numbers." She wasn't sure what he was supposed to do but she was a little annoyed when he simply stood there without so much as a twitch. "Well Alucard, I'm going to give you something to do in this dry spot. You will stake out a park until you catch sight of this vampire. Reports say that he'll be seen on one of the crossroads in the park so please be vigilant."

Alucard grinned as Integra held up the picture of the target. The image was grainy, resolution wasn't great but just by looking at it, Alucard's hope began to sink into a pit that he doubted he could wrest it from. It was going to be another routine job that he would breeze through.

"This is going to be a walk in the park I take it," Alucard remarked with the constrictive tension of ennui clinging to his voice.

"What I want you to do is to extract information from this vampire who goes by the name of Scry." Her matter-of-fact manner was beginning to crawl under Alucard's skin, which was already bristling with the caustic rays of the sun but he knew that this is what he had to do and there was no arguing nor negotiating with her. The only thing he could do, the only way he was going to derive any sort enjoyment from this otherwise derivative mission would be to put his own personal spin on the proceedings.

"As you wish My Master. Though, what is it that I am to enquire about from this," the name was croaked out in disdain, "Scry?"

Integra placed the picture back into the tan file she had extracted it from then set it aside before she settled into her usual position: elbows on desk, hands clasped before her face. As she began to answer his question, a smile spread through his mind as he thought of everything he was reading from this simple choice of posture.

"You will enquire about the underground movement known as, 'Maiden.'" Integra stared out from behind her neatly clasped hands waiting for Alucard's response which he delivered promptly and cleanly.

"What can I expect as far as resistance? Will it be just him?" he asked expectantly. Integra couldn't help think how much he resembled a child asking if he'll get to buy a toy he had longed for. Integra decided that it would be kind on her part to give the stifled warrior something to look forward to; though, she carefully controlled her voice so as to stifle the slightest sign of beneficence.

"Scry will usually attract a moderately large crowd relatively quickly. Reconnaissance reports that his largest observed retinue was twenty-seven individuals."

Alucard didn't try to conceal the manic smile that exposed his fangs that only accentuated his bloodthirsty nature. Though they would be menial sport, maybe the sheer bulk of the slaughter could make up for its lack of quality. Alucard's trigger finger began to burn, begging him to no longer neglect it. He would be more than happy to comply.

"Will I be going alone or will I have to play chaperon to a group?" Alucard asked quite simply.

"You may go alone. These are nothing you can't handle in a matter of minutes," Integra granted. The conversation was pale, emotionless as the ocean that conceals a rip current beneath. Both participants were aware of the delicate game they played, of the bridle that they both tugged on. Alucard was concerned with tearing away the reigns from his master's hands, or at least giving the impression that he was doing so; while Integra was being careful to give him enough breathing room so he did not buck wildly out of control.

"When may I begin, Master?" he asked, hiding the mix of excitement and the precursor of inevitable disappointment.

"Tonight and every night leading to the full moon. That is the only time it seems that there is no activity in any of their observed congregational positions."

* * *

Part III: What not Who, Who is This?

Alucard began to walk to the wall through which he usually took his exit through. In most situations, he would simply turn, tip his hat in her direction then merge and disappear through the rift he was able to conjure. Integra observed something she had not expected this time. Her mind somehow superimposed the image of what she expected upon what actually transpired. One Alucard followed his normal route to the wall, gave his respectful recognition in her direction then took his leave; however, there stood Alucard, bent at the waist, his Fedora removed in a genuine gesture of respect. She couldn't decipher the intentions of this mysterious creature but he chose to make his feelings known as he quietly supplied, "Thank you for this assignment." He briskly righted himself and took his leave.

Integra sat stunned, confused a few moments, blankly staring at the spot the great vampire had disappeared into. Her heart twisted a little in her chest as she was reminded again of what he was. _'Could he be so thirsty for carnage that he would thank me for supplying him with what he craves? Could I… oh God, what does that say for me if I just let him sate himself on the suffering he causes?' _The impassive face was caught in the transition from confusion to dread as she had to accept again, what the Legendary Vampire really was or at least acted like; nevertheless, she also had to question what she was that she could dare to utilize such a creature. She was thankful for the light that poured through the grand windows, grateful that she could feel the warmth on her back. It made her feel that she had a closer relation to the humanity she was supposedly fighting to defend.

* * *

Part IV: Boxed Consciousness

Sera lay in her coffin, her hand placed over her forehead, squeezing as the pangs came through. It seemed almost like she was attempting to squeeze the pulses of agony that fluctuated through her head out of herself at the moment they made their presence known. Unfortunately, she was not having much luck with this technique as they performed little rebellions at a set, predictable rate. Like an oscillator's waves, the pulses would arise then run their set course at their set intensity, only to fade in the cosmos of her inner being.

Her tongue played over her fangs, running over the tip, opening a gash that was tiny enough to heal as soon as it was made. She could never quite get used to the understanding that damage was done to her body without the actual feeling that it was being damaged. She knew that there was a problem with the system, but that was all: it was an interface to monitor and through which to interact, not a medium to experience.

That was what made Seras feel something that was not dimmed by her conversion: worry. This pain in her skull was not damage done by outside forces, it was not caused by a head ache – all headaches, except for those brought on by her hunger pains, had stopped from the time she had made the leap across infinity – but by something that was influencing whatever it was that was animating this body that should not be moving according to all the rules of Nature that she knew. Whatever it was, it was cutting straight to the core of her. Cutting into her core even, as those obstinate scrapings in her head suggested.

Now all she needed was to have her Master walk in and start berating her. He hadn't been very formal in the past about letting himself into her room. Usually he would simply faze through the door or the ceiling without warning; though, one occasion, she had sensed his presence and instantly directed her eyes to the two most likely points of entry. Instead, he had drifted up through the floor. She had jumped back at least twelve feet, tripped backwards over her coffin, and landed with her legs apart in an embarrassing display of ineptness. Her Master had done nothing, not even avert his amused gaze. He simply said in his usual amused fashion, "Police-girl, please scrape yourself off the floor." In those moments, Seras felt so useless, so much like a pathetic little girl cowering in the closet. In those moments, she wanted to punch him, to grow claws and rake out his eyes for making her feel like that. It was in those moments, though, she saw something develop in his manner that seemed out of tune with his normal demeanor.

Now, all Sera could picture herself doing was going to sleep. Sleep was the most she felt she could ask from the world that had dropped her screaming into this rabbit hole. Yet, the grinding in her mind neither abated nor augmented itself, simply maintained itself at its jarring level. She breathed in deeply in frustration. She held the breath inside for a moment, but soon realized that she could hold this single breath till the end of the world came, and she would never need to take another one. _'Imagine if I kept this one breath in me till I died,' _she mused to herself. _'Imagine this one breath could be my last and yet I'm not close to dying right now.' _Through the indignant clawing that permeated her head, she had to smile as she thought of the irony of this, of getting to have a second last breath. _'Would that make my other last breath, my first breath as a vampire? Sort of like being born?' _she wondered, her eyes tracking the darkness of her coffin lid. The strange part was that she could see the every knot and spiral in the wood in details that the human eye couldn't see in the day time with a magnifying glass. There was no part of her that would let her forget that somehow, she was different.

* * *

Author's Notes: This is going to follow my typical scheme of being psychologically involved. However, unlike my past story, there will be a much higher emphasis on action. As boring as this chapter may be to some, I want to introduce the characters so that they have some kind of distinction and depth. After this though, there will be heavy concentration on action with scattered patches of psychological inquiry. So, now that the plot is set and the characters displayed, next chapter will find some action, Alucard style! 


	2. Chapter 2

Hello. Now it's time for some good, old-fashioned Alucard brutality. I promised ya, didn't I? Lest we forget, however, that I don't own anything from the series. Not the characters, not the settings, not the organizations.

* * *

Part I: In a Synthetic Hold

Night had descended upon London like a great eagle that descends to capture its screaming prey and haul it into the sky, into the murky depths of death. The park was empty. Well, empty to most people since there was no one walking along the paths, or lounging on the benches. However, Alucard could see that there were in fact people in this land of night. In the bushes and various out of the way places, he could see writhing forms of men and women, pulled to one another, wildly groping and grinding. He didn't think much of it. After realizing how much of an animal he was, he found other people's animalistic natures quite acceptable. In fact, he found it quite entertaining to see people so wholly abandoned to the beckoning of their bodies. Of course, they were only following the prodding of their temporarily vivacious bodies. Alucard realized that what he was following was not from this shell he wore. His drive came from someplace much darker than any human mind could conceive of.

It didn't matter though. It was just a technicality really. Right now, despite everything, or rather, the lack of anything to speak of in his soul, he was content to just walk and wait for the quarry to arrive. At least he could have that much to look forward to. His red glasses reflected the half moon as it saturated everything in its eerie glow. The world seemed to shimmer as if it were made of glass as the languid wind brushed through tress and shrubbery. Alucard's long coat caught the breeze, riding it outwards in long, graceful undulations. He looked like an angel, an angel doomed to an eternity of solitude fashioned from the interminable familiarity of just about every conceivable situation or sensation.

It was ok though. For moments such as this, when the same moon shown down on him now that had graced his form all those years ago, he felt at least content. In a way, things were even more beautiful as he traced the pulses of life that flowed through everything around him. It was incredible. Every breeze, every leaf, every one of those spasmodic and clandestine lovers were innervated by these phantasmagorical pulses of vitality that flowed in colors that human minds would find too much to understand.

* * *

Part II: Engage/Destroy.

Contentment suddenly came to a stand-still as Alucard sensed that his quarry was just ahead. To turn this corner, would be to make visual confirmation, and from there… Alucard's arms went like snakes into his coat to switch the safeties of his massive cannons. Contentment would have to take its leave, manhandled as it were by the screeching of the banshees of war in his soul. Something much akin to feeling truly alive made Alucard's body tingle, burn for the upcoming pain he would receive and distribute.

The group was not as large as he had hoped it would be. There were only twelve present, not counting the main objective. Even more disappointing, they looked like they were vampires but Alucard could see that they wore it with all the distinction that one wears their skin. It's just there and no more. A scowl crossed the No Life King's face as he slowly walked over to them.

"You Scry?" he asked without the slightest trace of humor or good will to the person in the center of the circle.

"Yeah, and who are you… or what the fuck are you?" asked the wispy figure in a voice that was trying to sound powerful. "You guys seeing this? We got what looks like a real odd one here," he jeered, throwing back his head with self-assurance.

An explosion jostled the stars in the sky, and drove the moon to scream its brightness. Bits of gore and skull rained down on the stunned company. Alucard only smiled at what was to come next.

"Kill him!" Scry roared as he jumped from the center of the circle in an attempt to escape. He never saw it coming. He felt his legs explode, felt himself flip forward and crash to the earth before he heard the shot, before he heard the sadistic laugh cut into the arteries of the night.

Alucard couldn't concentrate long on the downed vampire as the eleven others instantly converged on his position with the grace and skill of a pack of drunkards. They had apparently not been packing guns, but scimitars and other assorted blades.

Alucard smiled as he flipped backwards to avoid the sword that would have cut him in half, his eyes traced its arc as it just missed his head. He landed in a semi crouch, both guns drawn and ready to slaughter. He squeezed both triggers simultaneously. The rounds exploded with the vengeance of insane demons and tore into the chest of the one whose blade had just missed its mark. He didn't have time to scream nor could he, seeing as his lungs had been blown out of his chest in a spray of blood and scorched tissue. He fell gurgling and retching to the ground that was soaked with his own blood.

A female vampire had run to Alucard's back in hopes of getting a clean stab into the heart. She took the chance and tried to drive the blade home; however, he was too fast. Leaping up, he kicked off the blade that had just been a second to late. Twirling in the half light of the moon, he brought his pistol directly to her left eye. The heat from the explosion of the massive Jackal seared the image of the barrel of the gun into her eye just before it exploded as the bullet tore through her head. She dropped without so much as a scream and even less of a head.

There wasn't much of a chance for any of them but that didn't stop them from attacking wildly, growling and snarling. Surely, he could not manage to dodge all of them attacking at once. With that seemingly understood and agreed upon, they charged in a circle, hopefully the noose that would cut the life out of him. Again, there was no way they could even get a bead on him as he propelled himself again skyward. Now, against the moon's delicate rays, they saw the fire in his eyes, the wild smile that seemed to stretch his face to its limits, the rows of sparkling fangs that had consumed a million souls. None of them were going to live… beyond… now!

The muzzle flashes seemed like supernovas against the sky. The roar and violence of the shots were like thunder bolts from some enraged nether-God. But none of that mattered. The symbolism and the majesty of his movements wasn't a concern as the rounds started to fall like rain to the ground, soaking the remaining fools in pain and their own blood. Body parts became divorced from torsos and torsos were divorced from legs. A crimson mist hung in the turbulent air, allowing the bullet trails to show in the moonlight as they cascaded over them. Heads exploded and organs were dislodged from their harbors. Finally, when nothing moved, nothing screamed, Alucard fell back to earth.

Calmly, he changed the magazines in his massive weapons as he walked over the pathetic wreckage of the creature that lay supine on the ground. The blood caked earth, however, was visible through the pit that was his chest cavity. His lips formed words that he could not enunciate. He begged, he pleaded as blood foamed at the corners of his agony twisted mouth. Alucard held his Cassul above the hopeless vampire, smiling, then squeezed the trigger.

He heard a pitiful wail coming from a few feet away. His eyes followed the sound and came to rest on the squirming, struggling form of Scry. He made each one of his footsteps a declaration of his approach, squishing menacingly in the blood soaked earth. Joy leapt like flames upon hearing the moans of desperation rise in intensity at his approach.

His next step was right beside the raw, charred flesh and jagged bone where Scry's leg had once been. All he could manage was to moan and choke out a few stifled whimpers. He clawed at the ground, trying to drag himself away from the scene of horror, from what horrors he was going to go through at the hands of this demon.

He didn't get far though as he felt a powerful grasp close around the back of his neck. Next, he realized that he was no longer laying prostrate on the ground but was staring into two orbs of unmitigated sickness and evil!

"Oh God! Oh my God! Please, please! No more! I beg you!" he implored in between sobs.

The implacable monument of evil only let a ragged smile curl one side of his face, revealing those impossibly long fangs. He let out a little chuckle then offered a solution which only insured that the rest of Scry's short life would be filled with more misery than if he were to live a thousand lifetimes.

"We can either do this the hard way, or we can do this _my _way." His smile exploded with perverse malice that swallowed any of Scry's remaining hope. The night was forced to bear witness to what transpired next though it was no stranger to Alucard's devious methods.

* * *

Part III: Spells

Seras had been restless that entire night if you could call the actual desire for inactivity a type of listlessness. She couldn't sleep like this, with the unrelenting tearing at her mind, yet there was no place to go to run from it. It pursued her down the halls, it followed her up the stairs. It harangued her as she tried to convince Walter that she was alright, all the while trying not to let the discomfort wash her face into a mask of pain. In the end, she had just continued to meander down the hallways, a lost soul lost in her own head.

Now, she was also hungry. Food wasn't going to cut it. She knew what she craved. It wasn't really a word. No, she couldn't say it to herself, she couldn't tell herself that she wanted to suck blood, to drink another person's blood. But she saw it dripping from the walls of her mind, felt its absence absorbing into her consciousness. She leaned heavily against a wall, hoping it would just go away. This was usually how she had dealt with these longings, these pangs before. She let them have their way with her then let them pass. She wouldn't give in though, would not take that next step.

Her hunger though was feeding something else. The new resident of her mind was growing in urgency, in intensity, in viciousness. It swelled and bucked wildly in her skull, remorselessly beating into her, screaming at her. The atmosphere multiplied around her, forcing her down the wall, to the floor that seemed to not mind welcoming her. The screaming in her ears was so familiar now. That was maybe why it hurt so much to have to listen to it. Her thoughts were a jumble that disappeared somewhere over the horizon of her mind's limits. Somehow, she felt… like… like…

"Miss Victoria! Miss Victoria, what has happened to you?!" she heard Walter's concerned cry just before her light was swallowed by her own cries of fear.

* * *

Part IV: Step Two

A gut-wrenching feeling shook the Great Nosferatu like a stake. The audacity of it didn't hold a candle to the cruelty of it, the perversion of it. _'Me talking about cruelty?'_ he mused, disgustedly. He wore the sickly feeling across his distinguished features like a mask of flesh. What right did these creatures have to inflict their curse upon the rest of the world? Couldn't they see that this was their life now? Their burden? A heritage recorded in blood upon the parchment of ages? More than that, however, to attack Her? How was it even possible?

He would get his answers when he went to pursue the next objective. Of course, he would need to return to the Hellsing Mansion to be approved for his mission as well as to restock on ammo which he knew he would need plenty of. For now though, he had the tattered, yet still squirming remains of Scry to remove from the land of the living.

The tattered mound of flesh couldn't scream. It had no mouth to scream from. It couldn't wave its arms in a futile, last ditch attempt to ward of the inexorable end to his non-life for both arms were nothing more that jagged bone shards that clicked amongst and against each other as the muscles convulsed meaninglessly.

Alucard didn't pull the trigger out of mercy. Nor did he dispatch the unfortunate creature out of boredom. In all truth, he just couldn't stand the thought of what he and the rest of his group were planning on. The gunshot was a shallow moan in the night. There was only silence now. The stars closed their eyes as morning approached.

* * *

Author's Notes: There we go. That was a lot of fun to write. I hope we're liking the character depth and the action which I'm really trying to pour into this story. Well, until next time, enjoy what's up and of course let me know of any changes you'd like to see. 


	3. Chapter 3

As much as I'd like to, I don't own any of the characters or anything at all from this anime/manga.

* * *

Part I: Post Mortem

"So, that's what they've been doing," Integra said pensively.

"Yes, My Master. It seemed insane, but after I removed the bones from his arms, he kept with the same story. Usually something like that will get a person to tell the truth." The smile that accented his European features in demoniacal relief perturbed Integra slightly, despite her being accustomed to Alucard's sadistic methods.

"That might explain why the full moon marks their conspicuous absence," Integra continued to muse. Their plan was ambitious to say the least, in her opinion. Still, it seemed like it would be a matter of cauterizing the infected pocket of these rogues. Alucard could settle it in a night. Oh course, there was also the problem that vampiric transfers posed. Vulnerability to sun and the need to use other life-forms to maintain life would be just the start of their worries. In truth, the problem they faced right now was seeming to loom much larger than she had anticipated.

"Would you like me to annihilate the offending party?" Alucard leered. He had gotten just a taste of a massacre tonight though all it had accomplished was making him yearn for a longer battle, a bloodier battle. Not only that, the participants' skills were so far below his that it was a mere game of point-and-click to him. He wanted a true war!

Integra didn't wait long to answer. Her cool voice was simple and resigned. "No. We should collect some data on what we are actually facing. After that, you may get what you desire." Her face didn't flinch, but her spirit did. She was aware of the two-fold desire he held. He could feel the etheric matter that her soul conducted suddenly turn cold, waver like abdominal muscles before nausea's sudden attack. The concept of what he wanted never stopped twirling like a gyroscope in the back of Integra's constantly moving mind. Despite all his power, his boasts, his pride; her Servant, her teacher was praying to finally be released to death's hands.

Her small amount of sadness was not lost on Alucard. The waves of ethereal energy stemmed any intentions on his part to tease her tonight. He would simply appreciate her graciousness and take his leave. "Thank you Master. Is that all?" he asked quietly.

Integra didn't respond as quickly as she had before. She sat a moment, unsure if she wanted him in her presence or if she would prefer him to just retire out of her sight so she didn't have to think of how tragic he really was. Alucard waited patiently. He wasn't going to push her right now. She finally gave herself the little push by taking her glasses off, rubbing her sleep deprived eyes, then resuming her business-like manner.

"You may take your leave, Alucard," she said gently. Her eyes followed him as he walked over to the wall.

Looking back at her, Alucard felt a twinge of regret. His yellow-tinted sunglasses didn't allow her to see it in his eyes. She couldn't understand what it was to live so many life-times, to see so much loss and death, and then to loose everything. She had yet to see her own empire fall around her, or see the blinding white light of defeat as it swallowed every accomplishment. Yet he felt worse still for the fact that she looked at him as something of a friend despite the rift of death that inexorably separated them. Through the cobwebs of ages and the scars of battle over his ragged soul, her sentiments touched him. More than anything, it was the idea that some one could look upon him in something other than terror.

Serenely, the Vampire King removed his Fedora and bowed before Integra who sat watching him from her seat of command. Suddenly, she spoke up, her upraised voice a startling contrast to the silence that smothered the massive room. "Alucard! Walter told me that Sera had a fainting spell earlier in the night. I would appreciate it if you would go to make sure she is alright." Alucard bowed his head slightly, signaling his acquiescence. Integra hastily added as he began to merge with the wall behind him, "Also, please be nice to her in the meantime."

"When have you ever known me to be anything other than nice?" His gleaming smile was the last thing she saw of him as he passed through the wall of the chamber. Her eyebrows levitated ironically when she felt he was far enough to not be able to pick up on her thoughts. '_All those textbooks seem to say you're not exactly a stand-up example of kindness,'_ Integra's tired mind said in a sing-song voice. She had been up all night waiting for Alucard's report of what had happened and now she would spend the next day putting together a plan on how to find as much information as possible about what the rogue vampires were planning and the best course of action.

* * *

Part II: Humor Me

Darkness was murky. Nebulous anomalies drifted by. Sounds of breathing, indistinct… nothing. _'What…' _the rest of the sentence couldn't survive the sleep that snapped it off like a bear trap. Then, there was nothing, except the curt clicks that parted the stagnant nothingness. Again, the two sharp clicks stole away into the nothingness that was Seras' consciousness.

Groggily, she forced her eyes open. _'What's going on?' _she questioned through the fog of sleep. Her hands went up to push the coffin's lid aside but she was met with stubborn resistance… and those two clicks. She groaned half in fatigue and half in frustration as her attempts met with the same implacable disappointment. Her usually calm face was beginning to twist into a snarl of aggravation as all her attempts met with were those enigmatic two wraps on the coffin lid. _'Wait,' _she thought, as the cruel-spirited humor of it began to dawn on her, _'this must be Master's idea of a knock-knock joke! I swear…' _She didn't continue the sentence, knowing that Alucard was probably inside her head and listening to her thoughts. It was better to just go along with his puerile sense of humor.

"Who's there?" she called through the wood that separated them before giving one more push. The lid flew off and tumbled over at the foot of her coffin and she nearly sent herself flying with it. Her blue eyes wearily traced the floor till they came upon her Master's perfectly shined boots. Tentatively, her sapphire eyes traced from the boot, up the leg, over the red overcoat draped torso, to the smiling countenance of her creator. She forced herself to cover every inch of him, up to his gaze. She really didn't want to meet his cold glance, wishing that maybe she would just not be noticed, another piece of the furniture that he would just walk by. But no, she forced herself to glance into the coals that seemed to burn in the centers of her Master's unflinching eyes.

"What's the punch-line master?" she enquired, sure that there wasn't any.

"I didn't think that far ahead," he coyly replied through a smug grin.

'_Of course there isn't! Just an excuse to annoy me a little more,' _she though miserably before realizing that her thoughts were not hers alone. Her hands quickly went to her mouth as if she had spoken the offense to him.

* * *

Part III: Reluctance

He only laughed, that booming, cannon-shot of a laugh. "Sir Integra sends me here to check on your well-being and you're not even grateful?" He feigned insult, then settled into that expectant stance, his arms crossed over his chest leaning back on one heel. Seras hesitated before any kind of response, knowing that he was just waiting for her to step into a trap of her own making. Still, the bemused grin never left his face as he enjoyed the unsure look on her face.

"I-I'm sorry Master," she began slowly, taking her time to test each word's possible reactions. "I'm just not feeling to well," she resumed hesitantly.

"Hmmm," Alucard exaggerated, bringing his gloved hand to his chin in the classic stance of pensiveness. The position his hand was in made the pentagram on his glove point down vindictively. "Could that have something to do with your not consuming a drop of blood since I turned you into a Draculina?"

Sera, almost as a reflex now, lowered her head. She wasn't sure what to say. There was no way she could defend herself. If she did, well, all he would do is become irate with her. Yet she just could not force herself to give up on this last claim to being human. She was brought back to the present and away from her speculations by her the commanding rumble that emanated from her Master's throat.

"You know, you're really abusing my good nature, Police Girl," Alucard remarked, his characteristic, one-sided grin still pasted to his youthful face. "Are you just going to stand there and pretend I'm not here?" His smile turned into a snicker that crawled further up the side of his face, exposing the fangs that hung down like those of an asp.

"No Master!" Seras replied as quickly as she could. "It's not so much that I haven't had any blood as it is… it'll sound strange," she finally balked. She wasn't quite sure what Alucard would do if she were to complain about the weird scratching in her head. Only when she saw the finely trimmed black eyebrow rise in exasperation did she decide to cut right to the problem she just knew was going to get her some mean words. "I've been getting this strange feeling in me, in my head. It seems to get worse when I get hungry though. That's why I fainted earlier." Her head still remained directed to the floor, purposely avoiding her master's gaze, afraid that to look up would be to get the full brunt of his anger.

Alucard was as curious as he was vexed. There was probably a connection between the rituals being performed by the vampire group and the feelings they had been having. Indeed, it would make sense that there should be a reaction amongst their kind. The question that bothered the Great Un-Dead was the exact nature of the influence the curse would have being thus amplified. Such answers were only going to come with time and with a whole lot of people dying at his expert hands. Right now though, what he had to deal with was the incompetence and reluctance of the demure Draculina standing before him.

* * *

Part IV: Problems and Solutions

"Even so, there is no excuse for being so reluctant. You chose to walk the way of the Un-Dead, you should start acting like one. What is it that holds you from achieving your full potential?" The way he was speaking now was not so much in anger or contempt as it was a teacher to a failing student or at least a student he knew could do better than she was doing presently. Even so, his present gentleness didn't erase Seras' understanding that he could be cruel and that she should do her utmost to not provoke him.

Yet, he was patient, waiting for her to stop her stammering and actually form a coherent excuse. "I-I'm-I'm afraid," was what she managed to force through her slightly trembling lips. Somehow, Alucard thought that it might be fear, a fear that stretched back through her life to a moment when she saw a glimpse of hell. This brief explanation was not enough for him however. All she had done was skirt around the issue without facing what it was that frightened her so much that she would give up her inheritance.

"Police Girl, what is it that frightens you? How can you be afraid when you yourself have become a monster?" His question was loaded like a magnum slug and it did just as much damage. He did nothing as her face was warped into an expression of fear, of loathing, of sadness that reached beyond the boundaries of life and death. Her eyes were a miasma of confusion and distress which, quite frankly, was the very thing he was looking to do to her. She was strong but she was going to need to become even stronger if she hoped to survive.

"I-I'm not a monster! I'm not like them!" she cried out defensively, as though her words donated any efficacy to something she already feared was not true. "I don't want to be like them! If I drank, it would be like I had become those monsters that killed my entire family!" she began to scream. As her voice reached a crescendo of desperation, a tremble of anger began to run like a bass beat, lending a stronger foundation to her shouts. In tandem, her master noticed the normally crystal blue eyes that looked out innocently at the world were beginning to deepen, to metamorphose like a chameleon into a burning crimson.

Alucard wanted to push this a little more. He locked both his elegant hands on her shoulders and pushed her against the cold, stone work of the room. _'Nothing like having your back to the wall to get you fight back,'_ Alucard supposed as he saw the fire in her eyes temporarily flicker with incomprehension and nervousness.

"Now, Police Girl, you are the thing those people would fear. Those creatures were nothing but dogs. They charged in and attacked your family when they were vulnerable and unarmed. They were not monsters, they were not men, they were nothing but dogs!" Alucard had a breathless quality to his voice born of the excitement that arose from maybe making her understand, maybe giving her the resolve to reach out and take what was hers. "By remaining like this, you are just a step higher on the food chain than they are. Do you hear me? You could destroy them within the blink of an eye, yet you chose to remain in this pitiful state!" Hopefully, this would be the push she needed. Though what he got wasn't a push.

* * *

Part V: Lashing Out and Reaching In

The room spun around then crumbled around him as the ceiling was the next thing his eyes were treated to. His jaw however, was not being treated very well at all considering that it was completely out of its joint. Slowly, he resumed his feet, dusting of his pristine red coat. Finally, with a vicious twist of his head, he threw the mandible back into its proper place with a crunch that reverberated around the tomb-like room. Next, he re-grew the teeth that had been knocked across the room and healed the myriad fractures that would have made the bone look like a jigsaw if it were x-rayed.

His eyes refocused on the girl who still stood against the wall, her hand clenched in a fist. Now though, regret and genuine fear replaced anger and hostility. Just then, Alucard noticed that the world was playing out in two different versions of itself. One side was colored a bright red while the other appeared as it normally did when he wasn't wearing… He quickly removed the broken glasses, holding them out as if he were appraising them. Seras continued to watch as he gingerly put them in his pocket. As he did so, however, his teeth made another appearance as a pleased grin overtook his countenance. From Seras' perspective, this smile was one of glee derived from the thought of how he was going to punish her. She didn't stand a chance against the most powerful Nosferatu to ever have lived… or un-lived… or whatever it was that kept him going, kept him dangerous.

His boots began to close the distance between them. The sound of their contact with the solid masonry was cadaverous, was a countdown to the moment when she was going to look at all the pains of her past as nothing but tickling bouts. She pressed herself against the wall, hoping maybe it would give way and she could make her escape but it refused her desperate internal pleas.

Now, the famed vampire was face to face with her. His eyes bored into her soul, it was even more uncomfortable than brusque scampering in her head that had actually been overcome by the beating of her own heart. Though, was it really beating or was it just what she expected to hear? It didn't matter. Right now, his hand was lifting her still clenched fist up with a gentleness she didn't realize he was capable of. The same gentleness betrayed the pain he was going to deliver for such an offense. She watched, eyes growing wider as his gloved hand levitated before her then came down to deliver… a small tap on her knuckles. She hadn't realized it but she had squeezed her eyes shut when she was sure that he was going to hit her.

Alucard grinned in his usual self-assured manner as he watched her cautiously open one eye then the next. He decided he had kept her hanging long enough and to explain his leniency.

"That was for striking your Master," he elucidated calmly. He patted her head on the head, a sense of accomplishment spreading through him, "And that is for finally striking your Master." For once he smiled reassuringly at her. Then, as abruptly as he had made his presence known, he turned and headed towards the door. He was content for now that at least brought out the nerve in her to attack him. His smile was as strange and otherworldly as the mysterious Cheshire Cat as he crossed through the door.

Seras' wanted to stop him, to ask why he had done that, why he kept pushing her. In a way, she wanted to thank him, in another way she wanted to ask that he never do that again. Her eyes played out over the room, as sterile and dark as before; yet, something added color that was uncharacteristic. A ruby hue that had not been there previously, that didn't belong there, like blush on a corpse. Suddenly, shape and color caught her recognition and she realized that it was her Master's hat. It must have been knocked off when she slugged him. Quickly, she swept up the worn hat and rushed to the door only to find the hallway empty.

Slowly, she sealed the door shut and returned to her coffin, yet thought better of this and went to her dresser. Looking in the mirror she plopped the large Fedora on her head. It was far too big and slipped down to cover her eyes until she finally tipped it back so that it hung away from her face. For a second, she understood more about him than ever before. For maybe just a second, she envied him.

"I'm going to need that back," she heard the familiar voice explain as the large red Fedora was lifted off her head. She turned just in time to see Alucard disappear back into the ceiling upside down, bat like.

* * *

Author's Notes: I haven't updated in a while. Sort of short on ideas and wasn't quite sure how to tie the chapter together. But here it is. Again, I'm trying to flesh out the characters a little more since they are very well written in the manga and anime. Though I will be getting back to some more action since, as we all know, this anime takes action to absurd levels and I'll try to stay true to that part of the original series as well. Hope you're all enjoying it so far and of course, leave comments so I can know how to make this story better. 


	4. Chapter 4

Hi. I don't own anything from Hellsing and am in no way affiliated with its creator or publishing group.

* * *

Part I: Daytime Insomia

Alucard was not in the mood for sleep. Even though time dictated that he lay inert, after the festivities of the previous night and especially after seeing what he saw in Seras, his mind was awash in the tempestuous tides of his own thoughts. Slowly he sat down in his favorite high-backed chair. His hands sifted through the rent contents of his pocket as he smiled slowly, genuinely. Sleep was definitely not sounding appetizing in light of these feelings. For the first time in what seemed centuries, it wasn't the rush of battle or the thrill of a dying opponent's scream that gave him vitality, but seeing a strength in his protégé that she was once afraid to embrace. Even if it was tentatively, she still had been daring enough to strike even her master.

Well, he could just sit here in his chambers or he could go out there are do something, anything. He was so restless and eager for anything. Something in his long dormant heart twitched and the sensation was driving him harder than even the screeches in his head. But this room, it was, even as he surveyed it, simply reminding him of the emptiness that this new emotion was filling in. The small table to his side made a few hollow pops as he dropped the ruined remains of his glasses on it. A stray shard of the colored glass bounced and made a sharp, yet ultimately, brittle click against the wine glass that had always dutifully remained on the little pedestal. The sound, like the glass that had made it, was delicate and transparent as it made its way around the massive cavity that was Alucard's living quarters.

He tracked the sound waves as they made their rounds around the room, colliding with the nothingness that filled every corner. Finally, the pores in the stonework had absorbed the careening waves and there was nothing… not even the sound of breathing.

Nope, this was too boring, too dull, too much of the same thing. Alucard took his feet with purpose and strode out to whatever was out there. Who he bumped into first was Walter who, as was the tradition by now, to replace the blood pack that Seras never touched. Alucard didn't want to get his expectations too high but he nevertheless hoped she would drink and finally become stronger.

"Good day Alucard. Insomnia?" Walter lithely asked, his usual warming smile basking in the sun that was allowed to enter through the plush curtains.

"Sort of. Going to waste more blood, eh?" Alucard quipped.

"Well, I don't want her to feel rejected. And you never know, if ever she feels the desire to go through with it, she'll have it right there."

"Very good Walter, that's what I like about you."

"You mean my endless optimism?" enquired the reserved butler.

"More than that: you always keep the blood coming," Alucard boomed with his typical ironic laughter.

Walter laughed along with him, his more subdued, eloquent humor. He looked down the hallway towards the underground entrance then turned back to Alucard, "What do you think of this situation? Who in their right mind would even consider making such foolhardy mistakes?"

"They want paradise but the paradise they want is one of their own designs. I think we can all admit to wanting a paradise of our own making, built to our specifics." The hallways didn't move nor shift yet the light gave everything motion as it employed its rays and the shadows they made like marionettes.

"Well, in any case, I'm off to deliver Miss Victoria's blood,' Walter excused himself as he proceeded to the entrance to the subterranean honey-comb network. Alucard only continued to pass along the richly, yet ultimately utilitarian-styled, hallway. Each ray of sun cajoled his nerves into a fervent dance that hastily played like staccato over his skin. For now, he would enjoy his missing wings, enjoy his being tamed, enjoy the fact that there was still battle to look forward to.

* * *

Part II: Needle-Work and Dead Information

The day had passed between cigars, a desk, a laptop, and a lot of paperwork. The fan of the laptop and droned eerily, mechanically, yet insect-like from mid day onwards. The blades may as well have been put against Integra's skin since it was just as annoying to have to listen to it. Her long, slender fingers were sore and her wrist was in a padlock of knots. Finally, with the sun waxing dejectedly into the ether of night, Integra sat back in her large, chair and stared at the ceiling in something akin to fascination yet lacking consistency.

In any case, she and Walter had made large strides in their research. "Strides," however, was not so much the word as was, "gouges." The information they had was rough both in definitiveness and in the format used to record it. In their own extensive library, they had found a few scant texts, their parchment and binding worm eaten and brittle as mummified skin, which alluded to a certain ritual that carried major consequences. The rugose parchment had seemingly been the physical equivalent of the modes Water had employed in recovering the digital records of a volume clandestinely kept by the Vatican. _'Just a little compensation for the stunt you pulled in Badric,' _Integra had thought just before ordering Walter to crack the codes to the Vatican's mainframe.

Now, it was time to brief the two operatives who would commence the first segment of the plan. Finally, the pieces had fit together coherently, not just in terms of what was going to happen, but a whole history that formed into a mythology. With the antiquated and arcane tapestry finally assembled, the tale could be presented to another with the assurance that it could be appreciated in its aged, and therefore somewhat tentative, completeness.

* * *

Part III: Stolen Fears. Bleeding Puzzles.

Seras didn't risk tentative glances at the wall of red, black, and primed death that stood a foot or so away from her as she listened attentively to Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing explain the situation. She didn't need to wonder if her Master was stealing covert glances at his pupil for when Integra was speaking, he listened. Besides Walter, Integra was the only human being whom he showed the least regard to. For some reason, Seras wanted her Master to pay attention to her. This was strange as it was the antithesis to what she usually hoped for, fearing her Master's reprobation. Yet, she had seen that, even through his often cruel banter, he was trying to make her stronger, make her better. Now, knowing that she wasn't going to get the acknowledgment she was wishing for, she decided to give her unbroken attention to the puzzle Integra was putting together like a skilled surgeon sewing flesh of a patient back into its original form.

"Before our honored Protestant Church of England, before the Catholics came to hold their empire, before Christ spilled His most precious blood on Calvary, there were the Pagans. They worshipped in their various ways and had an organized process and hierarchy to their rituals. Yet even amongst them, there were those that clung to the outside, remained on the fringe. Ironically, they may have stumbled across a greater portion of the truth than even their mainstream counterparts.

"These fringe groups took into account a force known Spirit of the World. This was the actual spirit that infused the planet we live on and provided the force that gave life to all things existing in the world. Now, seeing as vampires need to feed off the life of others, and the Spirit of the World being the ultimate life force, a certain vampire sect began to develop rituals that would enable them to access this Being directly so they could feed off it. Thus, what began as a means of worshiping an intelligence, or Being, or whatever it may be, was perverted by these rogues into a means of gaining more power than they should have ever had access to. Around the time of the Inquisition, one of the few things the Catholics managed to do correctly, was to kill off the entire cult throughout Europe in their mad dash to eliminate their competition: the Witch cults. In the process, they ran into these vampire sects and discovered documents pertaining to their rituals and intentions. Naturally, the Catholics made the fallacy of division and painted the entire witch cult as having the same goals as the minute vampire sects. The Catholics re-invigorated their efforts and managed to actually destroy the vampire cult throughout Europe; nevertheless, they also brought a lot of innocent people along with the guilty party."

Integra was disrupted by the resentful snicker of Alucard who allowed a bitter sneer to drip like acid over his chiseled features. His mouth rose in a paradox of a smile that pulled at the corners of his vivaciously full, yet graveyard pale lips.

"I share the sentiment, Alucard," Integra admitted, a small, enigmatic smile softening her features. "So, what did the Catholics find that goaded them into their continent wide blood-bath? Well, besides the aforementioned strength boost provided by consuming the life force of the Earth's spirit, the long term goal was to infect the Earth itself, turning it into one of the undead. So, what we are dealing with is a group that is trying to convert the Earth into a vampire. Needless to say, this is a bad idea which we, as the defenders of the Crown and the Protestant Church will prevent from coming into fruition."

The implication of what Integra was going to order next made Alucard's skin prickle in anticipation. He could hear the battle in his head: the gun shots, the blood as it sprayed from a severed artery, the sound of a body collapsing or being rocketed to the floor. What he needed now was a picture, an image, a concrete set of schematics as to how this was going to go down. "Master, who do we target to stop this? What can I expect for adversaries?" His lids had drooped dreamily almost, letting his long lashes eclipse his brilliant red eyes.

"Well, this is what we know: in the typical, 'coven,' we shall call it for now, one high ranking vampire will feed off the Host and then channel energy outwards to the rest of the congregation. This prevents cross contamination and complications. Luckily for us, it also means that all we have to do is kill the main vampire to reverse the curse, just like if you were to kill a vampire before it could finish draining a victim. Thus, the curse should reverse itself once he or she has been eliminated. Yet, we still don't know the exact location of their ritual. That answer lies with contact the late Scry provided you after your skillful," she paused as a wry smile brought out the creature Alucard had tried so hard to foster in her spirit, "persuasions." Alucard squirmed beneath the vestments of carnage her wore. "So, the next step is to appear at the location you obtained, obtain the information, then go on a full-scale attack." Her smile broadened over her full, bronzed lips. Alucard couldn't help but think of her as a slightly mad Athena.

"Is that a direct order, My Master?" he asked in a throaty, lustful manner.

The smile that clung desperately to humanity yet hung its head under the swaying guillotine of perversion continued to lend Integra a connection to the Midians that did not come from a bite. Instead, the smile came from that guarded room that she knew contained the instruments of evil, the lust for death, for power and control. It may have been only a side storage room compared to Alucard's sprawling labyrinth of chaos, but now the door was opened wide and its allurements were beckoning Integra in with promises of pain to come. "Indeed it is Alucard. Find the contact, get him or her to divulge the location, then destroy them utterly."

The ravenous, out of control grin that swept over Alucard's face bespoke of a close encounter with utter lunacy. Apparently, by the way he indulged in it and let it have free reign of his visage, he was quite content to feel his grip on sanity release and dance in wild orgies with the God of Death. "My Master, what a wonderful order! Truly, this will be a scrumptious night. And Police Girl, I won't allow you to simply stand by and pick at the crumbs. Follow now, and arm yourself. We're going after our quarry."

With a sweep of his magma red coat, he turned to exit down the corridor. Integra, however, had been saving the best for last, holding the Absinth that would push the events into overdrive in tantalizing reserve. "Alucard, just know that you will be facing a fairly large number of adversaries who may have strength beyond what your average FREAK displays. So, be vigilant and," a pause, an uncertainty, a gap in her impeccable presentation, "be careful."

"Of course Sir Integra," he calmly assured her. Then, like a virtuoso leaving the stage, he bowed and turned to leave. Seras stood a moment, a bit confused by the display she just observed. Usually, the two only antagonized each other; still, this dialogue seemed to point to a deeper core of emotions that contradicted the playfully hostile nature of their discourses. When she heard her master crossly call after, she realized she had been dawdling, lost amongst the murmurings of her own thoughts.

* * *

Part IV: Responsibility and Disclosure

As Alucard walked down the hall to the subterranean vaults, discomfort assaulted him ever so delicately. Though the surge to kill, to destroy thrummed monstrously throughout him, like the grinding of age old gears; there still rung the silver, crisp tone of apprehension. He could not understand the need for Integra to resort to sentimentality; it was simply not like her. He had not bothered to notice, through the moans for blood in his head, the waves she was emitting. Perhaps, in those subtle fluxes, lay a clue to where her doubt in his ability to endure anything was harbored. Whatever it was, he would have to endure it and charge ahead, just ignoring it as he had done the clawing in his head. In any case, he was looking forward to his first challenge in quite some time.

On the way to the rendezvous point with the contact, Alucard informed his pupil that she would be playing a larger part than she had realized. In fact, she would be the one to interrogate the vampire and extract the necessary information. Upon hearing this, she had gasped in disbelief that she would be called upon to do more than act as support. She also was a little angry that her Master would spring this responsibility on her when they were less than fifteen minutes from contact.

"If you're in danger, I'll provide back-up though I would prefer to see you use your own power," instructed the ancient vampire.

Her eyes catching the silvery moon, Seras looked up in distress to see her master was now hovering above her in the form of a bat. His wings pumped furiously at the air, berating it coercively into supporting him.

"But Master, where will you be?" she asked in a suppliant tone that only accented the slight tremble her anxiety produced as it dislodged her footing of self confidence.

"Don't worry about me Police Girl, I can take care of myself." His laughter rising as he himself ascended towards the moon's silvery glow, Alucard rose above the scene, hoping that his protégé would perform to her full potential. Ahead, he could see the prey who was accompanied by what he made to be a posse of four body-guards. He didn't worry though. Instead, he let a small chitter flutter from his compact body as he mused about his last facetious remark. Against the orb of the Mistress of the Sky, he traced a figure eight that he had knocked on its side, into infinity.

* * *

Author's Notes: Well, I finally put together what they are facing and from here on out, it should be straight up action and suspense. No more gilding the lily. The next chapter should be up fairly soon. I hope you are enjoying the story thus far and please leave any suggestions on how to improve the story. 


	5. Chapter 5

I don't own anything from the Hellsing copy right including characters, organizations, or... pretty much anything.

* * *

Part I: Cover is Theater's Curtain

Panic filled Seras' heart as she watched her master trace patterns against the spot light of the moon. On the ride over, she had considered what her Master had meant when he had passionately declared that he would not let her just get the, "crumbs." Now, his intentions pressed down on her like a vengeful hand of some delirious demon. She continued to walk, trying to decide what she would do, her resolve thinning out in proportion the trees that began to thin their ranks to make way for the clearing. She wasn't even sure how many were present. All she knew was that the main target's alias was Pan.

"Four in addition to the main target. A pithy reward for our travels. At least it will be a good way to get you warmed up for the main course," Alucard instructed telepathically, his voice rife with expectation and sensuality. Somehow, it was comforting to hear her Master's voice, even if he was hovering out of the way where he could not help her.

Alucard watched as she broke into the clearing. He watched attentively as the five people turned simultaneously to watch as she slowly crossed over to meet the main contact. He smiled as he listened to her fabricate a lie in order to keep her cover and gain their respect. She explained the presence of the Hellsing logo as a prize of sorts she had taken from the corpse of one of the officers she had managed to kill. He could read that they were suspect however, and he patiently waited for there to come the break down. While she continued to navigate the gauntlet of the conversation, the goal being the details on the location of the gathering, the True Nosferatu took stock of what she would be dealing with when Hell finally broke loose and she was forced to defeat them or be defeated. The four vampires who were acting on guard duty were equipped with high powered cross bows that were firing wooden bolts. This would be interesting, he thought as he observed Seras' dialogue, took note of her mental status, and prepared himself should his aid be required.

"So, you want access to the next big thing, right? You want to be in on the revolution?" inquired the bulky vampire.

"Yeah. I'm looking for something more interesting than just pithy human prey." She paused for a moment, a break in her rhythm that made way for a gaggle of phrases that seemed to fit the moment; yet, the one she for some reason elected was the most recent one her master had spoken to her. "Such a pithy reward," she feigned an ominous tone that didn't fit with her girlish appearance. Up above, Alucard smirked as he heard her borrow his exact words.

"You know, I still can't imagine how you could match up with a Hellsing member and not die. I hear they're really tough to get through," Pan began, his sly tone insinuating, probing, looking to grasp at whatever was beneath the surface. Seras was more guarded than even before, but now, her words, like legs that tried furiously to carry themselves from danger, began to stumble over themselves.

"No, not really. They're just humans for the most part. The only one that couldn't be killed is Alucard so I could kill the other humans without much trouble." Her defense came out feebly, but worse, the mention of Alucard was like a blazing neon sign to her inquisitor. His very existence was open to much debate, yet here she was confirming it, talking of him as if he were an acquaintance. Perhaps it was of his own, internal persuasion, but suddenly, Pan began to slowly back away, allowing his guards to form-up, two by two in front and behind him.

"You don't smell of blood. I'm willing to bet that you haven't had a drop in a very, very long time." Seras, fumbled with possible explanations yet in the end, her hesitancy won and stood in silence that fell like a second night, that blinked out the stars.

"Oh course a puny, pathetic vampire like you couldn't win against a group of those damned Hellsing soldiers. What are they collecting vampires now?" he let his neck arch as he howled his laughter into the night sky. Still Seras stood motionless, unable to mend the breach in her cover. She had gotten the information, but now it seemed as though obtaining the necessary intelligence was the least of her worries as the two mountainous fore-guards leveled their weapons at her.

* * *

Part II: Fallen Into Rage

The click barely registered through the hurricane of pain. It picked her up and dropped her on a spike. She tightened her abdomen only to feel the muscles squirm and push around the bolt that had penetrated her. She tried to pull it out but it hurt so badly, that to even brush it with her hand brought her to her knees. Her eyes squeezed out a tear that careened from her cheek as the boot slammed into her jaw.

Time seemed to slow down as the world around her was swallowed whole by the sky. Looking up, it was almost as the massive contusion that was the sky was bound and framed by the trees that stood like living pikes around her.

"Well, this is going to be fun," Pan leered menacingly. "What do you think boys, should that be the extent of her punishment?" He was cajoling now, driving up the pulse of the men who were now going to swap roles from guards to executioners.

Seras had tipped to her side, curling defensively into a fetal position, paying attention not to brush the wooden spike that jutted sickeningly from her gut. Then, when she was hoping for one pain to somehow call of its attack, another electric bolt of pain savagely bore through her arm, tearing aside muscle and tendon, before finally settling in the bone. She let out a scream that was quickly smothered by the pain that snaked its way up through her diaphragm and into her lungs.

'_Is this all you can do Police Girl? Lay there and die? What type of vampire are you?" _came the age-hardened voice of the one who had gotten her into this mess. Instead of comforting, his voice made shivers snake up her skin, made her pain intensify in self-loathing and anger.

'_Please, Master, help me!"_ she begged, her eyes stared into the abyss, her teeth clenched so hard she could feel several of them that had been loosened by the kick dislodge.

'_What are they to you Police Girl? Are they big bad monsters? Just like the men who killed your family? Are you that scared little girl who hid in the closet and watched as those dogs slaughter your family? Is that what you want to do, watch as they destroy every last bit of you? Remember what you are, what you can do, Police Girl. Make them fall before you."_ Somewhere, his voice had become a howl that frightened even the wind, that tamed the wolves in the forest and bid them be silent. To Seras, it was like a shot of adrenaline for her hurt and bleeding body. In truth, adrenaline only boosts the body, what this was reached into her soul and gave it primordial fire!

Struggling to her feet, Seras turned and faced those who had assaulted her.

"Put this bitch down," Pan instructed with venom.

The bolt was thrown from its cradle, cutting the air like a scalpel, leaving an abrasion in the ether.

* * *

Part III: Under a Moon, Hell Awakens.

The breeze was cool as the air caught up with the wooden projectile. It had stopped right in front of the heart of the one it was supposed to have killed. Instead, Seras looked down at it, ran her hand along its shaft, felt the balance of it, then launched it back to where it had come from.

The muscular guard didn't have time for a farewell scream nor could he make one last futile attempt to dislodge the wooden spear that had broken through his rib cage and tore through his heart. A geyser of blood shot out of the wound, tampering with the moon's light. For a moment, the droplets had coalesced in the gaze of the moon and painted the glade in a lurid scarlet.

Before the felled guard had fully vaporized, the doomed group's eyes had diffidently swiveled back to the horrifying sight of the creature that had once been the practically defenseless envoy of Hellsing. Now, they beheld in horror as she grasped the end the bolt and dragged it clear of her body with ghastly sucking sound as it was pulled through the flesh. She didn't recoil at the pain, nor did she reel from the agony of hauling the projectile from its moorings in her bone.

Angrily, barely in control, she snapped the wooden stake between her fingers. Laxly, she let the broken ends fall from her fingers with the grace of a fairy dropping flower petals. She made a move to advance, but in mid-stride, she turned her attention her pierced midsection. Quizzically, like an animal not quite sure what to make of some vestige of human tampering, she cocked her head to the side, letting her sun-yellow hair play over one of her eyes.

Her hand slowly closed over the exposed end and drew it out. Slowly, tortuous it seemed only for the four creatures who now watched the scene stupefied, Seras extracted the foreign element from her body. She twisted it sharply so that it would maneuver readily around her spine's lateral fins. Then, deftly and quickly, she removed and held it before her glowing eyes.

Under the blazing moon, the four remaining blood-suckers could only let their jaws drop at the spectral sight of the creature they faced. The wind that lapped at their skin sent debris and the corpses of leaves fluttering by like imps that jostled to be spectators of some revolting event that they knew would be taking place in that open glade in just a few moments.

Unexpectedly, Seras had dropped to a low crouch, the crossbow bolt clenched tightly in her delicate fist. A desiccated leaf wafted by, carried by myriad unseen hands that bore it on to some unknown place. The earth sighed beneath the thrust of her legs whilst a twig, having long endured the agony of being separated from its bearer snapped beneath the toes of the black boots Seras was wearing. She rose to greet the downy night sky whose features were obsidian and clear, away from the machinations of man.

Now however, the plots and schemes of things that were more than human were materializing and bursting forth into shrieking reality. The vicious, death-tuned form that was Seras landed in front of the remaining fore-guardsman. His muscles bunched and recoiled, trying to draw his arm back far enough so that he could fire the crossbow at a distance that would let the projectile gain enough force to do the job right. His intentions betrayed him though, as Seras exploited his motions so that the cross bow pointed straight up at the underside of his jaw. A jet of blood erupted out and over the weapon and dribbled down it like melted wax. A river of blood exploded out of his lips that contorted and pulled themselves into a mask of agony. He crumbled to his knees, a mountain razed by the sheer fury that scorched the young Draculina's soul. His suffering was not yet completed, in a split second, his face was buried in the soft, cool earth. Leaves and dirt swirled down his throat as he tried to get enough air to let out a scream, but the all he got was the same dank, rancid detritus that filled his mouth and drove his taste buds to shrink back from their duties. His subjection to such a sensation was nothing to the pressure boring down on the back of his neck. Twisting, it drive its pointed form deeper, tearing the flesh, letting streams of blood course down the sides of his neck, soaking into the ground around him.

What were his comrades doing? Just standing there, watching as she ground her heel into him, tried, not to suffocate him, but crush his spine? If he could see her rage twisted face, see the hellish blaze that radiated from her core out of her eyes, he would no longer question why they didn't attack. In the carnal burning orbs that seemed to spin in their sockets, her eyes showed each and every one of them a preview of their own, inexorable deaths.

The roaring in his head, the whine and creaking of his bones reached a note of desperation. He felt the crack, felt the disconnection with the rest of himself. That was it. It should have been it. But it wasn't. Like a massive star churning in the ageless, bestial reaches of space, Seras' awakened brutality burned and was seeking to burn everything away with.

The stunned groups eyes widened in concert, like the opening of paparazzo's shutters that attempted to drag in all the gruesome details of a murder. Attentively their eyes followed the swift jerk of the blond haired creature's ankle as it simultaneously slammed down and twisted, severing through the muscles and tendons that had held the bulbous head to its sturdy frame. Their eyes seemed glued to the now free globe as Seras' toes dug beneath the skin stub of the neck then kicked it into her awaiting grasp. Her hands clawed into the raw, seeping flesh of the severed head, then spun it so the crown of the skull rested in the cup of her palm.

Her head slowly twisted so that her brimstone eyes came to rest on the group who, despite their collective size, came to cower into themselves. Her grin was animalistic, a hungry void that attempted to suck everything of life to feed its nothingness. She didn't know it, but above her, Alucard laughed madly, from his orbit. His lips gave vent to a torrent of saliva as he watched the four larger vampires cower in fear as they saw the Police Girl's hand ratchet closed like a bear trap. The skull exploded like a firework pod, casting its glistening, wet contents through the air. He flapped his wings feverishly to the tempo of the swirling void of chaos at the sight of such carnage committed by his precious little student.

Back on the ground, the four stood speechless as Seras made her unhurried, sauntering advance. The soil shifted to accommodate her footsteps, cradling them, giving the illusion that she was not so much walking on the ground as floating over it.

Three bolts tore through the fabric of the air between the two opponents with a wail. Seras could see them perfectly: their expulsion from the weapons, the way they arched slightly through the air before succumbing to the friction of the air against which they battled to make it to the target, then as they began to make their downward path.

Seras could see it all happening as it time had congealed into a gelatinous membrane that bound all within itself to its slow, plodding strictures. She however, was not a part of the system. Her blood right placed her outside of the tawny, feeble grasp of everything that weighed down the arrows, everything that would tear apart the now puny foursome that now drawn their shattered resolve together to make one last stance. She let the arrows simply reach their zenith then arch plainly over her shoulders. They didn't even mistakenly tug at a single one of her hairs, not grazed a single synthetic fiber of her uniform.

Before any of them had a chance to respond to the ensuing barrage, the crazed form of Seras had darted to one of the guards who, taking his cue from a classic, still wore his sunglasses at night. They were not, however, enough to protect his fragile eye from the brusque jab of the wooden projectile that sliced through the compliant sphere of his eye. Through the cracks and fractures of the dark plastic, blood poured and bubbled. His scream filled the night as he fell to his knees, his hand clutched to his face. But for what? He couldn't bring himself to yank the wretched thing free yet he could feel it scraping at the sensitive flesh at the back of the socket. He could feel it tease its way deeper. He was lost to the motivated, pursuing pain that gave him the second sight into hell. This sight, ghastly beyond recognition of words, beyond the tenuous grasp of what is real, blinded him even more than the eye that was dribbling its contents down his cold cheek. He never saw the way the Draculina side stepped to his blind side, and with a kick that seemed more the work of a choreographer, she drove the stake through his brain and out the other side of his skull. Bone fragments and bits of grey and pinkish brain splattered and frizzled through the damp air. A large, distraughtly jagged chunk of his occipital bone slid from under his scalp and hit the ground with a hollow crackle upon the leaves. Its former owner fell inert by its side, blood still being ejaculated through the gaping hole in the back of his skull and now vacant eye socket. But where would the fun of slaughter be without the excess, without the sheer trivial perversity of unwonted violence? Seras was lost now, buried beneath the corpses of her past and the accumulated bodies of foes who were falling now and would continue to fall well into the future.

She watched as if she were in a movie theatre. She was emotionally invested in the characters, most of all her own, but she could do nothing to influence the actions that seemingly played over the sprawling canvas that reached out to supply her with the sensations that were strangely divorced from her. There was a gap, a breach between her hands and the hands she saw grab and lock on a shoulder as the arm the shoulder socketted was throttled free. She wasn't part of the graceful, terrible form that spun the pain intoxicated body into the strong but vulnerable chest of its squad mate. Though her ears registered the cracking of ribs, they were only reports of what ribs cracking from the high velocity impact should sound like. She wanted to stop what she was seeing; but, she could not disregard the feeling that seemed to draw her up and out of herself like a drug. Her will beckoned her to stay, and sit and drift towards the screen and realize that she could be that. She didn't need to wait and sit in auto pilot but join in the sickening ballet that was being acted out with sadistic precision before her very eyes. The power, the rage, the control of being out of control threw waves of pleasure at her. She could feel her fists tighten, could feel the current of violence condense her muscles, turn her complacent flesh into an instrument of death. She wanted it in some part of her, the part that reached out to unite both her hands, to fully control the tendons, the skin, the tiny hairs that bristled with excitement as a scream entered her ear. Still, she was glued to her seat and forced to watch. She had not yet drunk of the elixir of death that would give her what she now found herself repulsed to crave.

Outside of her head, control was still in the powerful grasp of the fiend who cavorted about in the otherwise docile girl's skin. With the fractured arm of the pathetic vampire still in her clutch, she had kicked out his legs from under him and, in the time it had taken him to completely lie supine in the air, she had torn the splintering stake from the skull of the downed vampire and shoved it through the chest of the vampire who had only just begun his submission to gravity. Now, Seras had stolen gravity's duty as she forced the over-taxed weapon through his skin, parting the pectoral muscle that squeezed pitifully in response, and finally through the right ventricle. Blood welled up around the puncture before its volume exceeds the limits of the chamber the arrow had made. It rushes with urgency up the canal, pushing at the tissue surrounding it, searching for release as if it had resented its time in service to the body. With gusto, it forced itself to emerge like a serpent from a burrow. It coiled and pulsed around its liberator, sprinkling Seras like rain. It would be delicious rain if she could bring herself to drink it. But there was that much control left, the unremitting hand that clung to humanity through the proddings of the new nature she had assumed.

It was almost enough to dislodge the illusion in the theatre of the mind. Slowly, she could feel the moistness of the blood soaking into her shirt, the sweat that glistened like anointing oil under the spectral glow of the moon as it reared its head above the darkness. Her hands were again her hands, her body fading in and out like a poorly tuned TV, her limitations badgering her to stop what she was doing. But no! She needed to finish this.

The creature whom had absorbed the force of his partner's flung weight had yet to compose himself from the barely standing, stooped posture he had assumed to accommodate his shattered ribs. Seras knew how she could exploit this. Seras sprinted and jumped forward as if she were going into a diving role, but instead she grasped her calves around his head while her hands were poised against the ground. Her head shot back quickly to judge the distance from his body to the stake that protruded from the chest of the last victim. Satisfied that the blow would be lethal, she began to recoil her spine like a spring. She launched him, flailing wildly for purchase with anything solid, into the air. What he wanted came sure enough, though, what was true and sure buried itself in his chest, perforating his heart.

From the crouch that she had landed in, Seras, with such an air of dignity that one would assume she held legions in her bejeweled command, stood erect before the last suck of quivering meat.

"'Bitch'?" she breathed with emphasis. "Are you to compare me with a dog?" the question was spoken with a trenchant throaty growl that could have passed for the decree of some long neglected death-goddess. "Could a dog have leveled you as I have done?" She advanced one demanding, calculated step. As if a morbid dance had been agreed upon, Pan unsteadily defected one step. "Could you fear a dog as you do now? Am I not your better, your superior? You shrink from me with your tail between your legs… let me hear you play one last song, Pan." Her smile bled evil, her eyes furiously burned like nuclear fission were cleaving atoms and worlds apart.

Aucard's motionless heart leapt into his throat as he watched her plunge her arm, up to the elbow, into the chest of her enemy. Fondness, unmarred by anything else filled him. He was proud. Despite her aversion to drinking blood, she was incredible in his eyes. She had such strength, such wildness. She was a warrior underneath the soft white flesh. Beneath the trepidation and reserve, she was something that could possibly worthy of his respect. He broke from his reveries only when he realized that she was wounded and would not heal unless she took some of that blood she seemed to abhor so greatly. He switched forms, back to the long flowing vesture of burgundy that seemed to so succinctly sum-up what he was. He was the master of slaughter, an angel of carnage. And so he descended, his coat billowing around him like the fog that floats over the battle field at dawn as the steam escapes the slain bodies and mingles in the screams of the suffering. He smiled down at his student with a beneficence that could have belonged to a god appeased with a human sacrifice.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, I hope that was a fun ride. I think it shows just how twisted Seras can be and how Alucard is trying to get her to awaken to her full potential. The next chapters will have much more Alucard in them so don't think I've left him by the wayside. Well, until next time, enjoy the chapter and leave any comments that would help me write a more enjoyable story. 


	6. Chapter 6

Hello. Just the usual foreword. I don't anything such as characters, places, yada-yada-yada. You can guess the rest of the sad truth. I am not affiliated with awesome anime or manga.

* * *

Part I: Exercise One

"Excellent Police Girl! Beautiful, truly incredible. You are indeed very strong," affirmed Alucard as his feet made contact with the ground that had become spongy from its fulfilling quaff of spilled blood. The ground was drunk with the thick crimson. The ground was forced to regurgitate its meal with every step the towering vampire took towards his creation. The crimson would bubble up around the thick rubber of the soles of his boot, miniature spheres that burst in their own enthusiasm to surface.

"So, Police Girl, what was it that Pan played for you in his dying note?" he prodded gently. Her back was to him, her arms pulled tightly around herself, trying to keep what she feared from breaking back out into her system. She slowly began to relax the grip she had on her arms, slowly began to turn to face him. Her tears mingled with the sweat that ran down her brow and over her cheeks. Despite the fact the night was cool and balmy, and the even greater impediment of being dead, Seras was sweating. "Where are we headed to next Police Girl?" the powerful vampire asked with a little more force.

"Master, you could hear yourself. Why do you insist that I tell you when you already know?" her voice quivered slightly as the razor of pain in her arm drew itself across her skin. She cringed even in light of the fact that it wasn't pain she was feeling. It was the academic knowledge of pain. Lest we forget, that one may still cry for the lost souls of Auschwitz just from reading a textbook. Even bare, quantifiable knowledge carries emotional import and the weight of suffering was imposing upon Seras' consciousness. She stumbled forward a little, her hand applying pressure to the wound, hoping it would somehow cancel out the pain, that if she pressed down hard enough maybe she would trigger some kind of hidden mechanism that would mute its insistence.

"Why do I ask?" he slowly enunciated. "I ask because it was your job to interrogate the person with the information. It was your responsibility to learn where we are to go next." He was not loosing patience. But each of his words hung in the air like delicate filament that pulled and strained with the growing insistence of his requests.

"I," the words were balking in her throat while her mouth continued on uninterrupted, forming words that lacked the vehicle of sound to carry their message. Alucard didn't need the sound. It was superfluous. Her thought process was still going on as she tried to squeeze the words through vocal chords that had refused to comply with expressing of such a frightening prospect. He heard it and saw it. It was no kaleidoscope of tumbling thought or some brainwave that was constantly in a state of flux. It was a yawning black nebulous. The same cloud he had walked through to get to this point. She had seen her own death on the horizon. There was no more than that hungry chasm that no light penetrated, in which there was no air nor atmosphere to whip by you as you fell through the boundless depths of the gluttonous abyss leading to what lay beyond.

With the sight of what it was that the little Police Girl feared, Alucard decided to assure her of his protection. "Police Girl, if I had thought you were in true danger, I would have taken a stake for you without a second thought." His face was set and neutral, yet the corners of his mouth were drawn tight, adding a slight edge to his appearance. He wasn't all that impressed with her handling of death. She could inflict it well enough but there was still that panic when she herself faced it. Well, she was still rather new to the whole situation. Given maybe a hundred or so years, she might begin to become more liberal, more daring he figured. Though he himself had always dreamed of dying valiantly in battle, and had in fact done so, such aspirations were hard to foster in another if it were not simply part of the personality's repertoire.

He came back to the forest from his own summations and critiques to find Seras guffawed at his apparent statement of self-sacrifice for her protection. He didn't suppress the bemused laugh that overflowed from him. "My goodness Police Girl!" he roared in mirth, "I didn't say I'd die for you. I said I'd only take a stake or two to protect you!" He continued his fit of levity as Seras blushed at her own naiveté.

* * *

Part II: Heart and Soul

Through the facsimile of happiness that darted wildly about his spirit like cavorting feather dusters that tickled as they went, he sensed Seras' embarrassment as it emanated in diffident waves like a ripples on a pond. He walked against the small, unsteady waves towards the abashed young Draculina. He stood toe to toe with her though she tried to acknowledge his proximity by keeping her glance firmly rooted on a leaf that was so age worn that it resembled a ragged scrap of taffeta. With her concentration so sturdily locked on the leaf, she didn't notice him reach into his coat and pull out a medical blood pack. Yet she could pin the sound of its membranous plastic making strangely muffled crinkling. She looked up at him, about to protest.

He didn't need to say a word. His gloved hand simply lifted to shush her. Her eyes widened as she saw it begin to descend. Alucard did his best to conceal the enjoyment he was getting from reading her mind as it questioned where the mysterious gloved hand was going to. Such as naïve little creature she was. It floated, over her still chest, finally settling over the cavernous wound in her stomach. The pain seared her flesh, it chewed at her innards. She clenched her teeth, trying not to contain the whimper that bashed against the back of her teeth, trying to find a way out.

"This wound is deep. It won't heal if you don't drink some blood Police Girl. This time, I am going to have to insist that you drink blood," Alucard instructed. His face stern, he quickly pulled his hand from her midsection and pushed the blood packet before her. The hand didn't waver; the face was set resolutely as piercing eyes gazed down from behind the tinted glasses. This reluctance was vexing Alucard. Under other, more mundane circumstance, this obstinacy would simply be a trifle to be ignored. However, this was no trifle. Though she may not suffer the risk of bleeding to death, her pain would distract her and make her vulnerable. He could not afford to run into a location flooded with vampires with a girl blinded by pain.

Finally, something emerged that caused a smile to crease his cheek. But for a moment, a flash of heat innervated him as her eyes flashed like a bomb exploding. She turned her head, fighting with herself for control. The drive was there but so was she. It had to be her decision and that was the true paradox. She didn't want to be controlled by anything else but herself. It was her choice, not some shadowy thing that defied all the rules of existence; that slobbered for blood yet felt nothing, wanted nothing, was nothing. Yet, by taking such responsibility, she eschewed another part of what made her human. How much more could she give? Yet, she knew that it had to be done.

Slowly, she turned to look at the packet that sent streaks of discordant light flickering into the forest. She used her good arm to cautiously grasp the packet that rustled in her hand. The bloated slug of the packet flopped about lazily, its contents splashing against the barrier, almost eager to be relocated to Seras' accommodating gullet. Alucard stood over her, not saying a word either with his voice or through telepathy. His presence was enough to coerce the girl into slowly drawing the sealed spout of the pack to her lips. With deliberate disdain, she finally bit the end off and began the laborious job of draining the contents of the crinkling, transparent slug. The leathery exterior seemed to squirm and pulse in her hands as she continued to drink, becoming simultaneously more sickened and more excited with each passing gulp.

Why the giddiness though? What was this sudden charge that caused her register sensations in new and amplified ways? The taste was revolting, just bordering on sweet as it touched her tongue, but quickly dissolving into something stringent and alkaline as it settled over her taste buds. Yet, despite the settling sediment of revulsion, she could feel the power in her, supplementing her strength, lifting her capabilities. And now, she could feel the ragged hole in her stomach and the chipped bone of her humerus. Every twitching muscle she could feel and control, each ruptured cell clambered for her attention like small children around a favorite teacher. She didn't want to neglect a single one as she told her body what to do, instructing the cells to multiply, to expand, to connect and integrate with their kin. With startling swiftness, the loose, ragged ends of the muscle began to mesh together. Skin began to spread like liquid over the now complete wall of muscle as repairs continued inwards. The feeling was odd but not uncomfortable as she felt blood vessels bridge gaps and sliced or otherwise injured organs re-form.

"Now that's a good little Police Girl," cooed Alucard. He was still looking down at her, watching the wounds being repaired. This strange creature was still so perplexing to him. Having experienced the power of blood for herself, why wouldn't she embrace it, take what was owed to her. His grin broadened as her she began to pull more urgently on the container. Maybe she was getting the hang of it. Maybe. Just maybe. It was to be expected after she had willingly deprived herself of the life-maintaining substance for so long. It was like a person finally emerging from the water, swallowing mouthfuls of air savoring each molecule that continued to sustain life.

The bag was sucked into itself, nothing remaining. Seras glanced with obvious disappointment at the spent exoskeleton. Her eyes wandered up to meet her master's approving gaze.

"Feels good doesn't it. You see why we are to drink, do you not? Do you see why we must drink?" His gaze did not break from her. The question pinned her down and made her accept the fact that, despite its grotesqueries, her drinking of that ghastly fluid had given her a rush of ecstasy, had given her the strength to heal.

Through the conflict that embattled her mind, she replied in a low voice, "I do." While that would have sufficed, she began to counter what she had just said until her master's words cut her sentence in half.

* * *

Part III: To the Battle

"Now, where are we to go, Police Girl?" he asked simply enough to be a lost tourist.

With a sigh, she began to explain the dying creature's last instructions. It was rather simple. Just continue north from here until they hit a hillock. Upon circling, they should come to a concealed hatch that would lead downwards. They would need to locate the hatch, gain admittance, exterminate everyone within. It was simple. Just a walk in the park it would seem.

Alucard scanned the forest quickly, then turned his attention again to Seras. "Fetch your weapon. I'm eager to see this mysterious cult." His chuckle was laced with subdued wrath.

Alucard continued observing the secretive forest, allowing Seras to run to fetch the massive Harkonen and bandolier she had left in the forest in order to infiltrate successfully. The forest was dark, pitch dark. The moon's feeble rays couldn't cut through the dense canopy but instead flickered through the leaves, giving the appearance of a vast neon expanse hung over head. To Alucard, everything was clearly defined. Every branch, every leaf, every reclusive little creature that hid itself in the myriad furrows that the woods provided was thrown into glowing relief by the very essence it carried.

Upon hearing Seras push through the brush, Alucard began taking large, sweeping steps towards the gaping forest. He knew she'd hurry to catch up so he might as well go by his own speed. Besides, keeping up was her problem. This was his dance macabre so the tempo was of his choosing. It was her job to master the steps.

* * *

Part IV: The Forest's Lessons.

Seras managed to resume her place a few paces behind the sturdy, elegantly postured vampire. Her eyes were picking up everything around her while her agility gave her the poise to maneuver around every obstacle. Something made her skin crawl though. Something seemed so eldritch and apart from the norm. Though, what part of her existence was normal at this point she couldn't quite say. She darted to miss a low lying branch as thick as a man's arm in loyal pursuit of the true Undead One. Still, something about his purposeful gait and strong steps made her wince as she watched him.

She jumped over an obtusely placed rock to avoid gouging her shin. But, how did her master not… She realized the source of her discomfiture. It wasn't Alucard himself but the nature around him. Her eyes loomed large upon her face as she viewed the branches shrink from him as he passes, watched as he would simply glide up and over any obstruction that simply could not get out of his way fast enough. Seras, didn't gasp, didn't let all the accoutrements of fear play over her like a violinist's bow. Passively, she let the chill settle into her already cold body. Her mind couldn't come to an agreement of whether nature shrunk from him out of abject fear or out of reverence to he who could defy nature's dictates. Nothing shrunk from her. It seemed that the clawing branches were trying to ensnare her and cease her progress. Their rough embraces left trails across her skin in hurried scribbles.

At least the world around her did not cower before her. It still pressed its whims upon her somewhat. It forced her to realize her place as another aspect of the entire system and she was grateful to still feel included. But for how much longer?

The laugh reached out like a spectral claw. The branches around her recoiled from her, the leaves at her feet scrambled away in little twirling dervishes.

"You feel elated to be still under control? You are still a servant in all respects and you are happy?" He had watched her thinking, seen the fear creep over her as Nature crawled away from him like a beaten dog. However, Nature shrank from no one in fear. He was anathema, one who had walked away from the natural order of things and thus started a chain of events that led to such madness. Her attitude was becoming an annoyance. How could anyone be content to be a servant to the world, to the cosmos, with its vacillating hand in human affairs? To one is granted fortune, to another boundless suffering. Utterly ridiculous! Alucard scowled at the thought that he should be subject to anyone's control but his own. He would choose the when and where of his demise! It was the end of his life and no one had the right to take that from him!

Seras stuttered, fighting for the right to control her jaw muscles which spasmed and twitched. In her haste to respond, to defend herself, she missed the root that snagged her boot. She pitched to the ground with a little yelp, landing upon one of the straggling columns of leaves that had loitered too long on the path. Up ahead, she heard her master's boots come to a decisive stop, then, heard their echo turn and come back towards her.

She tugged at the boot. The ankle had been turned at a preposterous angle and wedged tightly within the knot of the loop. Still, she tugged, intent on being at least able to stand up before her master. The root clutched her foot in its maw and refused to let go, that is, until Alucard drew near. The branch convulsed fitfully, struggling to dislodge itself, ironically, from the impediment of Seras' foot. At last, it retreated like an eel into the earth, back to warmer pastures.

Alucard knelt beside Seras and removed his glasses. She wasn't used to the expression she saw there. There was a steady burn of wisdom that had an endless supply of experience to fuel its brightness. Yet the tincture was not so clear, as something dark loomed over what would have otherwise been a sagacious nature. The clouds showed the result of having such extensive reserves of fuel. They were dark, ominously lingering over him, casting him in a valley of shadow. He was a mystery that hid its vastness in the dark.

"Seras, you didn't want to fall did you?"

The question was far too simple. She suspected a trick. Hesitancy gently advised her to weigh out each response in its turn before giving it wings. She decided that perhaps a simple answer would be best; thus, she responded simply in the negative.

"I thought as much," he said quietly. "Under the bondage you find yourself, you are weak," Seras looked away, playing the role of the shamed pupil. "It was not an accusation, only an observation Police Girl," Alucard amended emphatically. "You are subject to the laws that have been forced around you. You wear that noose your entire life until the executioner finally springs the trap and you find that the noose holds tight around you. I waited just like the rest of you," she didn't like the way he said that. It made it sound like they were farther apart than she had hoped. "In my time, I was subject to the lynching of emotions and circumstances but I soon found that all I could depend on was me. There was to be nothing besides me. I saw how people I cared the most about were dragged under. I have had everything taken from me time and time again but this is something they can't have. I will choose when I have had enough. That is true power Police Girl. That is what I wish for you to have the strength to accomplish." The faces of those who had damned to a slow painful death as the spike gradually forced its way through their guts and out their shrieking mouths seemed to demonstrate the control one could have over death. It would be on his time when they died. It wasn't a matter of slicing them with a sword then leaving them to die of their wounds. He would watch and observe their end. It had been his first step to taking his own end under his control.

Seras was struck by her master's candid speech. It was out of character for him to speak so openly with her, so calmly. Of course, such a docile and soft touch was not to last long, "However, you choose to be weak. You remain on par with those you just slaughtered. So, if you choose to work with gravity, then prepare to be dragged to your knees." She understood his message; it had bitten into her immediately.

* * *

Both songs are property of Joy Division as are their lyrics.

Author's Notes: I hope that everyone is happy with this little exchange between Alucard and Seras. It seems realistic. He is trying to teach her and can be rather decent but it's always more fun for him to be a rather insulting person. So, the next two chapters or so should bring this story to a close. Please let me know of improvements and critique or just leave a happy message. : )


	7. Chapter 7

Hi. I don't own anything from Hellsing. Sorry.

* * *

Part I: Out of the Open

The night sky stretched interminably ahead. A million pockmarks of light shone feebly over them. They twittered and chatted in some strange language of flashes and sparks that none other than the fellow globulous spheres could comprehend. The hillock was not quite ambitious enough to reach its bulbous self towards the sky in the fashion of the great Alps or Kilimanjaro as it defies the plains around it.

Alucard and Seras had reached it and split to each circumvent the knoll from a different direction. No one was guarding. There were no signs of activity, certainly no signs that alluded to the rites that were being performed below the dome the grass covered hill. The access point was not difficult to find to their senses. Having just drunk, Seras could see the world not just as a high-resolution image but also as a vast network of pulsating lights. Their colors were blinding as they meddled with one another, interlacing frequencies that the created colors that were layered and textured in ways that alluded to a type of hyper reality that was concealed from most beyond the thin yet opaque surface reality.

Once they had stepped inside, the world of the surface was blotted out and the earth swallowed them. Sounds were belched up from deeper in the earth's entrails, carried fitfully upon the cold breath that seemed to rasp over unseen depths unfathomable and entirely hostile to those who were hoping to retain their downy ignorance. The aeon worn steps were slick with condensation that caused one to develop the notion that the world was engaged in some fitful fever that is was desperately trying to shake from its system. A thin film of queasy substance coated everything in slick residue, making Seras shrink from touching anything as they continued downwards. She struggled to work the Harkonen so that it did not scrape against the narrow, tightly wound stair case that seemed to go without end. Admittedly, her attempt to not brush the massive rifle against her surroundings was equal parts stealth and equal parts disgust at the thought of having to clean the antediluvian muck from her precious weapon.

Finally the stairs came to an abrupt halt. She nearly ran into Alucard's rod straight back but caught herself just a fraction of a second before her forehead was knocked against the cadaverously frigid flesh buried in a burning red trench coat.

His voice rattled amongst here neurons, its reverberations sliding like blood over their ganglia. "Police Girl, look what we have here. Tell me you feel it. Tell me you hear the horns and the drums ushering us to the battle and the resulting feast of carnage." She stepped from the sturdy rock steps that supported the weight of countless acolytes who had amassed in a smear of evil across the pages of history. The dry sand formed to accommodate her boot and she settled into her stance.

The cavern loomed wildly in front of her. It resembled the gutted cavity of a body, scraped and emptied of what had kept it alive. Now it was only a shell in which the maggots squirmed and contorted wildly in bacchanalian excess. The darkness was lit by torches that had been set into ancient sconces in the walls. Their light seeped up the raggedly pitted rock and ebbed and flowed thickly like a sickening pus from the infected wound these creatures had made.

* * *

Part II: The Prey

Their eyes registered the congregation differently, set in two different worlds. Seras let the guttering flames play corrupted games with her sense. She saw arms fantastically out of proportion with torsos and legs that trailed off into vast and twisted networks of tendrils. They were wondrously perverse. Something she couldn't quite see told her to hate them. Something inside her picked up on the queasy color of their aura, like something alive trying pitifully to free itself from the clutches of death. She switched off the safety to the Harkonen. She was eager to begin.

Alucard was quiet but his mouth was twisted in such a ravenous smile that it was almost a battle cry itself. He switched off the safety to his weapons and began to advance in a casual, unhurried way. He took note of their numbers which were, in all thirty-seven. It explained why the vampire attacks were dropping. Vampire numbers in England were not that high to begin with and their numbers had been torn apart by Hellsing over the ages. The greater portion of active vampires was probably standing right in front of the two hunters right now. Two special areas of interest were filed away in Alucard's mind. The first, was a youth who stood apart from the pit of writhing forms. His brown hair was pulled tightly and cleanly away from his face and held in a pony-tail that ran between his shoulder blades. His back was resting against the wall, his arms folded against his chest. It was natural enough but to Alucard's revealing gaze, there was a signal that this otherwise handsome youth was concealing something. His hands both disappeared into the strap and buckle adorned black coat. He had a trump card he was ready to pull. Alucard was sure of it.

The second, less demure object of fascination was the massive plateau that rose before the congregation. On either side of the expansive surface stood two large candle holders whose occupants spit oily black fumes into the atmosphere. From the opposite slope, there began to rise the gray and black dome of a head. As it rose further, Alucard could see it lead to a regally sloping forehead which, in turn, led to an aquiline nose. His sharp cheekbones were seemingly at odds with the paternal, friendly smile that crossed his face. His red eyes held a pale glimmer in them that Alucard felt should not have been there, that was foreign to any and all things that he himself had experienced. Their eyes met, and there was no point waiting.

* * *

Part III: Maggots

"Before tonight's ceremony, I would like you all to greet out new guests. Commend them on their skill for getting as far as they have and thank them for the contribution they will make. Their blood will be proffered so that we may commune and feast upon the source of life itself!" Something in his voice was quivering, something was being shaken loose by a power he could just barely keep under control. It was heaving below the surface, a free-roaming butterfly slamming against the walls of a jar.

Alucard stood for a moment, the smile still defying panic and sanity. Eyes upon him, death calling him, his smile broadened until he was satisfied and responded, each word dripping with condescension.

"Weakling. Pathetic excuses for a Nosferatu!" The smile had been dropped like a spent magazine and was now a potent scowl. "You lazy ignorant fools. You can't handle stalking your prey; you can't manage to draw blood in the tradition that has been laid down for ages. Adapting and improvising go way over your empty heads. Worthless trash!" His voice was sinister in the cavern, its strength seeming to bubble out of the walls and ceiling itself.

"So tell me, you are not vampires, and you are not human. What are you then? Are you dogs? Even that is too good for the likes of you. Dogs fight and kill but you," the word was spoken with such disdain that a visible chill ran through the group of undead, "you tear the world apart and suck its marrow only because it can't fight back."

* * *

Part IV: In the Belly Is The Beast

His heel bit into the loose sand as he turned to leave in such a casual manner that he might have been leaving a party. In an equally casual manner, he looked back over his shoulder, the over sized Fedora shrouding some of his face in shadow, and chimed, "I hope you picked a nice place to watch eternity from."

He stepped lithely to the side to reveal what his coat had hid from view. Seras had set her rifle on its bipod and had lined the heart of the ring-leader of this charade upon the iron sights. Her finger twitched as soon as her master's foot had been safely out of the way. The massive shell barreled through the air, close enough to Alucard to ruffle his flowing coat, and was met only with a stalagmite that had erupted from the ground right in front of her target. The target exploded in a blizzard of shards and dust but the target still set upon them with his cool, assured smile.

Seras was dumb struck but understood that the situation had just taken on another layer of complexity. Her arms seemed distant as she thought of how they were going to get through his endless security options.

"Are you prepared to dig a hole here Police Girl?" sneered Alucard, pulling his massive pistols from their holsters. She only looked up at him as bafflement at what they were going to do and what his words had meant.

"Shoot Police Girl! Shoot!" he ordered, himself raising his weapons.

"Ye-Yeah!" she called as the first vampire launched itself into the air. He had to be a sturdy two hundred fifty pounds but all the same he had flown like a massive crane through the air. She didn't have time to charge the weapon. She cranked open the breach, the shell exploding out as if for air… but it was too late. WOOSH! was all she heard as his body lost its substance. She quickly glanced behind to see the Cassul smoking from the barrel and a fire burning from the eyes of her master. His glasses were off. All bets were off. She jammed a round into the breach, locked it and took aim.

Two, no, now three more jumped at them. The smallest of the trio gripped a stalactite and started swinging from one monstrous spike to the next like some hideously obese ape. The other two were still in mid air when she pulled the trigger. Some part of her knew before the rest did that if she pulled the trigger at just the right time, her round would penetrate the hearts of both. A shower of blood exploded from the chest of the first and was joined a millisecond later by a twin shower of red from the one following. Neither reached the ground again. The round didn't stop though. It streaked an arc of red as it sped and buried itself in the ground in front of the now poised group. It exploded before they could move. A legless torso spun through the air, blood flying from it like a Catherine Wheel. Bits of blackened flesh and bone shards clung to the uneven ceiling or came cascading down in a pungent rain of biological matter.

All the while, Alucard had been firing wildly. The portly vampire who had been charging at them from the ceiling found out only too late why none of the rounds had even come close to him. His hold on the stalactite was rigid but the base of the massive cone had been blown away. He fell with a shriek as it buried its tip in his skull and fell with a grand sweep of air. It split him in half as it landed, its needle sharp end boring mercilessly through his head, sending vertebrae scattering as it tore him down the middle. Alucard could not repress the smile as he replayed days of being known as The Impaler. Oh, much fun that was.

No time for that now. Seras had found her rhythm, firing a shell every two seconds. She was pegging them left and right as they tried to dodge she would adjust, lead, and fire with a surgical precision that Alucard was rather impressed with. They were disintegrating and exploding, coating the ground with their blood and filling the chamber with their dying screams. It was wonderful. He especially liked how she killed with no discernable regret. He observed the head of a vampire that had been injured and burned to the point of incapacitation explode as one of Seras' messengers of death found its mark. But it was Seras' show and he would let her have it. He was off to deal with the youth with the ace up his sleeve. He hoped it wouldn't be another disappointment. He had a good feeling about this as he stepped over a spent shell.

The youth still reclined against the cavern's wall. He saw the great vampire coming down the slope that led into the belly of the chamber. A small, nondescript smile crossed his face as he flicked off the safeties.

* * *

Author's Notes: It doesn't seem I'm getting many reviews... Oh well. The show must go on. To anyone who is reading, the next chapter will be an Alucard fest. And will also be the next to the last chapter. So, until then, enjoy. 


End file.
